


Orion Rising

by MAJR



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Sharing a Body, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-02-10 03:55:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12903453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MAJR/pseuds/MAJR
Summary: A mistake land Harry Potter in the past forced to face the fact that there is no way back, now he must try to live the life of another.





	1. Chapter 1

Exhaustion. 

It was all he could blame it on. He’d been working too hard at the Ministry; that must be it. Weren’t people going to laugh, eh?

Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived, vanquisher of Voldemort and the youngest head of the Auror Department in recorded memory, killed by a badge.

At least it looked like a badge. 

You’d think that he’d have learned by now. In the magical world things which seem harmless can be more deadly than any weapon or spell. After all, didn’t Dumbledore almost get killed because of a ring?

Magic was treacherous like that.

Anyway, he’d come home from a long day’s work and thought to have a bath. Kreacher had died a few years back, Ginny and the Kids were out so he had the whole house to himself. He’d started the bath running and gone to search for some towels and a change of clothes. Without thinking he must have stumbled on Kreacher’s old nest in a little used cupboard and there it was. A small circular shape with some image carved into it. He’d just reached in and picked it up.

Next thing he knew he was looking down at his own body and feeling oddly…detached. 

Was that really what he looked like? He somehow imaged himself to be a bit…taller, maybe a bit broader in the shoulder departments and, dare he think it, probably a bit fatter. Now he was outside looking in he thought he rather resembled scarecrow, and not a very well put together one either. Odd how disembodiment could make you see things differently.

Was this really death? Metaphysically speaking? It wasn’t like the last time when he’d been at some facsimile of Kings Cross Station. He was just here, in the same room he’d died in - if, indeed, he had died – floating above his prone physical form. Was this to be his fate for eternity? The ghost of a man killed by a badge.

Speaking of…

The badge was oddly sharper now, more noticeable, as if it was suddenly more real than everything else. It was still clasped in the hands of his lifeless body but it seemed to almost phase through it, as if his body wasn’t even there. 

He felt drawn to it. The urge to touch it was overwhelming.

What would happen though? If he did reach out to it now that he had no body. Perhaps it would reunite his spirit and physical form, or perhaps not. It was almost torture, not knowing, and, really, he shouldn’t mess with things he didn’t understand, that’s what got him into this state in the first place, and yet…

…and yet it was still so tempting….

…just to reach out…

…reach out…

…and just to…  
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It was difficult to describe the sensation. It was like falling and jumping at the same time, like being stretched and squeezed in equal measure, it was…odd.

Harry found himself gasping for breath, choking and coughing as he sat up and scrabbled in the dark, trying to find a light. He managed to find his way to some curtains and drew them back to let the moonlight shine in. Spasms of pain shot through his body as he stumbled around the room. He kept trying to regain control but it felt as if something was trapped, clinging onto his chest and gut, strangling him from below.

He fell over next to a cabinet and gave a series of hacking coughs as he knelt on his hands and knees on the floor, helpless. At last he felt something shift and, with an extremely unpleasant feeling, emptied the contents of his stomach on to the floor in front of him.

He opened his eyes wearily. There was some kind of plant, a root or something, definitely not something he remembered eating. He didn’t want to touch it, but he’d have to find out what it was, just, just, he’d just get cleaned up a bit first.

Raising himself onto his knees was the easy part, standing up required using the cabinet to support his weight as he pulled himself to his feet. There was a mirror upon the cabinet that suddenly caught his eye.

There was a man. He looked to be in his forties, perhaps early fifties, he was quite handsome in a pale faced “I’ve just thrown up over the floor of my bedroom” kind of way. He was mimicking every move Harry made. 

Harry wasn’t an idiot. Of course he knew it was a reflection of his own body, except it wasn’t his body. Whatever that…badge had been, whatever curse or spell was set on it, it had transferred his mind into someone else’s body. Which could mean a couple of things. Either reincarnation was a thing and he’d died and stepped into someone else’s life half-way through, or someone else was in his body now. Neither thought was all that comforting.

The thing was, the face looked familiar. He couldn’t place it but he felt he’d seen it somewhere before. 

Movement caught his attention from the corner of his eye. It was a picture frame. He reached out to it on instinct. It was a family of four posing in a formal setting. The father – who was clearly the person who’s body Harry now inhabited – sat on a two-seated sofa and was glowering forward while throwing annoyed looks at his children, his wife was sitting beside him and currently looking over her shoulder for some reason – possibly scolding one of her children - one son sat dutifully at his parents feet though was clearly getting bored and restless while his brother was dancing from foot to foot at the side and glancing furtively away from the camera looking for all the world like he didn’t want to be there.

It was clearly a family that didn’t get along. Nothing like his own. He didn’t envy the man. 

How old was this picture? It looked worn and faded and you might even think it unloved, but it sat beside this man’s bedside in a well-kept frame, so maybe it was a reminder of a more pleasant time. Maybe the man’s family had fallen apart and this scene, despite the dysfunction, reminded him of a time when they were prepared to put aside their differences for a little while and do something together as a family. Maybe this was all he had left to of those times. 

That’s was kind of a depressing thought.

Suddenly the woman turned and looked at the camera with a scowl.

“Shit!”

There was no mistaking that woman. He’d had to deal with her screaming and cursing for many years. He’d never forget the furore she made when he finally got rid of her. He could still sometimes hear the screeching in his nightmares.

“I’m Orion Black”  
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The revelation that he had somehow come to inhabit the body of his godfather’s father struck Harry like lightning. He felt the shock travel the length of the body and tingle in the edges of his brain. Perhaps, given this, it was understandable that he had passed out.

He was aware of his surroundings. There was nothing.

No floor. No ceiling. No ground. No sky. No walls. No horizon. No end.

Nothing as far as the eye could see.

He was alone in a vast empty space. At least in this space he looked like himself.

Maybe this is what shock looked like from within. The mind stuttering to a halt so complete that it erased all thoughts and stopped all senses. But no, that couldn’t be it, because he was still thinking, still aware of himself and his situation. So maybe it was just superficial shock. Whatever.

He was Sirius’s father. 

Or, rather, he was in Sirius’s father’s body. How messed up was that? How the hell did it happen? And, more importantly, how did he make it un-happen? He had no desire to be Orion Black, he had to get back to Ginny and the Kids and get on with his life. Time travelling and swapping bodies was never something he’d ever considered possible, at least to this extent, and certainly nothing he’d ever wanted. He had a good life now and he wouldn’t trade it for the world. He had to get back.

A hand clasped his shoulder. He spun round and there stood Orion Black. 

“Who are you boy?”

Startled, Harry looked into the eyes of the man whose body he woken up in. Orion Black looked worn down and ragged, sickly and tired, yet he carried himself with a sense of pride and grim determination. It was quite easy to imagine that this man had been formidable in his prime.

“er, I, I’m Harry…”

A grimace spread across Orion’s face

“Harry? A common name. Unsuitable. You are a Black are you not?”

“Er, no. No I’m not.”

“But you must have Black blood in you veins. A grandparent perhaps?”

“Maybe, I’m not sure. Why? What does it matter?”

“I suppose it doesn’t matter at all now. That you are here is proof enough. You could not be here if you were not a Black by blood.”

“What do you mean ‘I couldn’t be here’? Where is here anyway? What’s going on?”

Orion regarded Harry with a critical gaze for a moment or two before holding out his hand to the side. A cane appeared in his grasp and he struck it on the floor that didn’t exist. Immediately a large arm chair appeared behind him and he sat down imperiously. 

“I am Orion, of the Ancient and Noble House of Black. You are here because I have brought you here.”

“You? You brought me here? How? Why?”

The seated wizard barely acknowledged the questions and continued on as if he hadn’t been interrupted at all.

“Once we were the most respected and revered family in Britain. Once to be a Black meant something. Now we are no one. Hated by our peers, scorned by our inferiors and despised by the world, and now, how could we fall any lower? To hate ourselves. We have turned on each other. Waged war against each other. Black against Black. A cycle of hatred so bitter that it will destroy our – my – family, and I found myself powerless to prevent it. ‘Why?’ You might ask. Because of love. My wife, Walburga, I have loved her with all my heart, adored her from the moment of our betrothal, and because of that love I pretended not to see, pretended not to know, as she turned away from her family and lead us to ruin, and now she seeks my end. She has poisoned me, and I shall die.”

“Look, tsk, all that’s terrible and all but what’s it got to do with me? What’s it got to do with…whatever the hell it is you did to bring me here.”

Orion stood in one swift, angry motion.

“It has everything to do with you boy! I am dying and if I die my family will be destroyed, I cannot let that happen! The Black family must continue on. It must survive! And you will help me.”

Abruptly Orion shook his head and tsk-ed in disgust.

“Walburga is a brilliant woman in many respects but she has no long-term vision. She thinks this Dark Lord will lead us to greatness again but he will ruin us. He has already claimed my niece and driven my son from me, now he seeks to claim my other son and to rule my family, and I will not allow it! Walburga wants me dead because she thinks I am holding the family back. She’s a fool, and fortunately, a fool who never cared for runes.”

Orion held out his hand and the badge appeared. 

“I created this as last resort. I have ordered the House Elf Kreacher to keep it hidden from my wife, and to bring it to one worthy. He shall inherit my house.”

“You…that…that thing brought me here! You made that! What the hell?! What were you…what? What do you mean ‘worthy’? ‘Inherit your house’?”

“He of Black blood who is worthy shall inherit my house and all within it. I can trust no other. My life I give to the protection of my family and your life is mine. Even as we speak our souls are merging as one. There is no way back.”

“You, you, you asshole!”

Harry lashed out. The punch sent Orion careening back into the chair, tipping it over and leaving the Black prone on his back. Rubbing his jaw he sat up with a look of shock upon his face.

“You, you took me from my family! My wife! My kids! For what?! Because you screwed up?! To clear up your mess! Screw you!”

Orion pulled himself to his feet, still nursing his aching jaw, and sent a wary look at the other wizard.

“Hate me all you want but you are stuck here. You cannot return to your own time or body. For what it’s worth I do regret your loss, but that future is gone and you can never return to it. It may still exist in some reality but it is not one you will ever see again. You are, and will forever after be, Orion Black. You must save our family where I could not.”

The anger, the fury, had turned to despair, and Harry sank to his knees. He looked up as the other wizard and hated him more than he had hated anyone in his life.

“Just, just go away”

And Orion did, and once more Harry was alone in a world of endless nothing. He buried his head in his hand and wept for the family he had lost and the life that was stolen from him.  
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“Kreacher!”

Walburga Black prowled through the halls of 12 Gimmauld Place in a rage. She was often angry, at the world in general mostly, but today she had intended to be at Gringotts early yet had been delayed

“Where is that useless creature?”

Her husband was a paranoid man who had placed every protection possible over the house. The only problem was that it required a key to unseal the house in the morning and he had always kept that on him, and since he had taken to locking himself in isolation during the night Walburga had been trapped all morning.

If Kreacher was answering her she could have ordered him to take the key and bring it to her but for some reason he was not, and she could find him no where. This was frustrating and annoying because she was now the head of the household and he should not have been able to disobey her.

The last of the Baneberry had been added to Orion’s nightly tonic and, if it had done its job properly, he should be dead. She’d been poisoning him for weeks, ever since their confrontation about Regulus joining the Dark Lord, and he hadn’t suspected anything before, so he should be dead, yet the House Elf wasn’t answering her.

“Hear me Kreacher! When I find you I will break your body and turn it to dust! Do you hear me?! You miserable creature!”

Suddenly a red light flew down the hallway and struck her, forcing her wand from her grip and sending it sailing away down the corridor.

“Surprised, Walburga?”

Orion emerged from the darkness. Thin and frail and gaunt from the poison, he was supported by the House Elf, Kreacher who watched the scene in horror as his Master and Mistress confronted each other.

“O-Orion! What-what-what are you doing? You should be…”

“Oh? Is this concern? My dear wife, that’s so out of character. Did you think I was dead? Or perhaps dying?”

“N-no. N-not at all. I thought you were asleep. You-you’ve been ill a long time. I didn’t expect you to be out of bed, that’s all. You shouldn’t be walking around in that state. Kreacher! What are you doing?! Take him back to bed at once! He needs his rest.”

“I think not, my dear. I have had quite enough bed rest for the moment. Come. Let us talk in the drawing room.”

Orion gestured with his wand for his wife to move into the afore mentioned room and Walburga had no choice but to obey. She was disarmed and helpless. She could physically overpower her husband in his current state without any doubt, but he had the House Elf on his side so it would be foolish to try.

Walburga sat upon a sofa, rigid and tense. Orion gazed over her with a critical eye. The part of his brain that was Harry regarded the woman as a hideous creature. Perhaps she was once beautiful and charming but he knew her character, knew her dark side, and could not help but think of her as the harpy-like women who had tormented his godfather and tried to kill her husband. But the part of him that was and forever would be Orion still saw the woman whom he had loved with all his heart in spite of all her faults and even now he hesitated, even now he could not find it in himself to hate her, and now it came to it he could barely muster the will to punish her, not even for trying to kill him.

“Baneberry”

He threw the root upon the table.

“Poison, Walburga. You would poison you own husband. For what? Foolish dreams of glory from a false master.”

“Oh, Orion, if only you would see reason! The Dark Lord will make us great again! He will restore the Pureblood families to power, Blood Traitors and Mudbloods will perish and we will stand at his right hand! Cant you see? I did it for the family. For the Noble House of Black. I had to do it! You would never accept it, never admit the truth, you held us back!”

“I have told you before; the Dark Lord will not care for our family. He will use us until he deems us of no further value then throw us aside. I cannot let that happen.”

“You are wrong! Through the Dark Lord we can be great again! You stand in the way of greatness!”

“You are a fool, Walburga, I love you and I always will, but you are a fool. And now you have gone too far. You poisoned me, tried to kill me, and I cannot overlook that no matter how much I loved you.”

Walburga seemed to know that something had changed. She had often had blazing rows with her husband in the past – it was part of what kept the spark in their relationship alive – but he had always been angry then, now he just seemed…disappointed, heart-broken even. 

Even she, though she had tried to kill him, still loved him in some measure. In her mind his attempted murder had never been personal but had been for the good of the family, and as she took in the weakened figure of her husband, emaciated and heart-broken, she couldn’t help but feel remorseful for her actions, she couldn’t help the sorrow that rose in her soul.

“Orion…I…”

She reached out to hold his hand

“I cast you out.”

“…what?”

Orion’s turned his mournful eyes to hers and gazed deep within. He shook his head sadly and raised himself up as imperiously as he could in his weakened state.

“I cast you out Walburga Black. Out of my house. Out of my family. You are no longer my wife. You are no longer of the House of Black. Forgive me.”

“You-you cant! Please! Orion, see reason! We can, we can work this out somehow. Don’t-don’t do this.”

“It is too late. What has been done cannot be undone, neither your actions nor mine. We must both learn to live with the consequences.”

Orion turned his back on his wife – former wife – heaved a heavy sigh and began to walk away. In shock and despair Walburga rose to follow him but Kreacher barred her way.

“Orion! Please?!”

Orion paused in the doorway and sagged against the frame. He looked over his shoulder and once more shook his head.

“I give you Kreacher. May he serve you well.”

“Orion?!”  
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12 Grimmauld Place was quiet when Regulus entered. No one had come to collect him at Kings Cross, not even Kreacher, and he had been forced to floo home from the Crouch residence. Mr Crouch had been kind enough to let him do that after learning that he and Barty had become friends during the term, and when it became clear no one was coming to collect him.

This was highly unusual since his parent were often only too keen to show off how proud they were of him. Thus he entered the house with some trepidation, unsure of what he might find within.

“Kreacher?”

He called out for the house elf cautiously but no answer came. This was starting to scare him. First his parent no-showed and now his ultra-loyal house elf wasn’t answering. Maybe…maybe something terrible had happened.

Grimmauld Place had always been imposing. It was not a warm and loving house on its own, never mind not housing a warm and loving family, and now it seemed oppressive, as if the shadows were coming alive and baring down on him.

He was being silly and childish and stupid and foolish but oh! How he wished Sirius was here right now. Sirius would be foolish and stupid but he’d be brave and at least that would be something.

What if his parents were dead in the house somewhere? What if they’d been lying there for days without anyone finding them, waiting for their second born son to come home to some grizzly scene? They were always arguing with each other. What if they’d killed each other?

At last he mustered what courage he had and moved into the hall. A light was in the kitchen and he crept toward it. Carefully pushing the door open a fraction he looked inside.

His father sat at the table nursing a cup of something, it was hard to tell what. Regulus waited a minute or two just to make sure his father was alone before sideling into the room himself.

“Father? What’s going on?”

Orion tore his gaze away from the cup and looked at the newcomer with some confusion. Harry’s part of the mind was working more than Orion’s - Orion’s had gone into some shock over the days event – and he didn’t recognize the teenager immediate. What did he call him? Father? This wasn’t Sirius was it? Did he look like this as a child? A name tore itself from his throat.

“Regulus?”

The spark of recognition came immediately, and Orion offered his youngest son a sorrowful smile.

“Come, sit.”

“What’s going on Father? Where’s Mother? Why didn’t Kreacher answer me? What’s happened?”

“Your mother, heh, your mother is gone, and Kreacher with her. I let her have him.”

“Gone? What do you mean? Gone where?”

“I don’t know. Somewhere. Gone. She tried to kill me.”

Regulus brain ground to a halt. He couldn’t comprehend what his father had just said. He had to sit down.

“Mother…did what? Tried to…”

“Kill me. Yes. Understandable really. She wanted control of the family, you see. She wanted you to join the Dark Lord, she wanted our family to follow him. I stood in her way.”

“But-but she-she tried to kill you?!”

“When a Black wants something they let nothing stand in their way, not even love.”

“How can you just, just sit there?! She tried to kill you!”

“What good will anger do me Regulus? I have lost the woman I love and nothing can change that. I punished her in the only way that would truly hurt her. I cast her out of the family. She will have to stand on her own now.”

It was not just the remorse and regret of Orion Black that had driven this man to his current state of depression. It was also the despair and loss of Harry Potter, who was still coming to terms with the fact that he would never again see his wife or children, and that they may never even exist now. The two combined to overwhelm the man that they now had become.

Orion turned his gaze back down into his cup and Regulus took in the picture his father presented. The elder Black was thin, gaunt and pale, his hair matted and greasy, his clothing unkempt and ragged, it looked as though he hadn’t slept or eaten in weeks, and upon that sallow and whitened face was a befuddled and sorrowful expression. 

Regulus had never seen his father look so lost, so weak or so defeated.

Orion Black was a man who prided in his self-control. He never showed emotion in public, he never showed weakness of any kind publicly or privately, he was a hard man to know and harder man to love, and to his children he was a frightening figure of authority.

And Regulus had always been frightened of his father, yet it was hard, near impossible, to be afraid of the broken man that now sat in the kitchen of the family home.

“What will happen now?”

Orion blinked himself out of his stupor to look back at his son.

“What…?”

“What will happen now, with the family? And mother, what will she do, do you think?”

“Hmm…your mother will probably go to Cygnus and plead her case, tell him some sob story which paints her as the victim. Alphard wouldn’t listen to her, he knows her too well, but she’s always been able to manipulate Cygnus. I expect there’ll be some kind of schism in the family and we won’t talk to each other for a while, but it’ll blow over eventually. She wont go to the press at least, wont risk damaging the family’s reputation.”

Orion leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling.

“…I shall have to make some kind of statement to the Wisengamot. Officially break any ties with the Dark Lord and make the family neutral. You, of course, will not be joining him or associating with his followers.”

“Er, um, yes father, but, erm, are you sure that’s a good idea.”

“Yes. I am. It’ll no doubt make us targets for the Dark Lord but that’s a price to pay. If the family must fall then it will fall on its sword. We are Blacks, and we follow no one.”

Abruptly Orion stood.

“But first, I must make things right.”

And with that Regulus was left alone in the kitchen with his thoughts as his father walked purposefully out of the room.  
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Fleamont Potter was sitting down to a late supper when there came a knocking at his door. He glanced up at the clock and saw it read eleven-thirty, then checked it against his pocket watch. Five minutes slow.

“A bit late for visitors.”

Nevertheless he put his meal to one side and rose from the table. Gathering his robes around him he began shuffling toward the door as quickly as his old bones would allow.

He wasn’t really old in Wizarding terms – some witches and wizards lived to over a hundred, some over two hundred – but he was close to seventy and felt old. Perhaps his combative youth had caused him to age faster, but when you’re name’s Flea you face an up-hill battle from the start and have to fight every day just to stand on even ground.

“Monty? What’s going on? Who’s calling this late at night?”

Euphemia Potter, his darling wife, emerging from their bedroom – downstairs to ease the strain on both – looked at him with a curious and slightly worried expression. She was four years older than him and suffered illness easily. It hadn’t always been thus, but she had been an experimental potioneer for forty years, and that line of work tends to weaken the immune system.

“I’m just going to find out my dear. Go back to bed.”

“We don’t usually get visitors this late. I hope it’s nothing serious.”

“Don’t fret dear; I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“Well make sure you have your wand just in case. You never know who it might be, and with this Dark Lord and his followers going about you cant be too careful.”

“Yes dear.”

He picked up his wand from its place on the fireplace as another flurry of knocks came upon the door, causing Fleamont to grumble to himself about impatient people lacking manners as he opened it.

In the dark of the night outside the house there stood a tall, thin and finely dressed man leaning upon a cane for support. He looked tired and haggard, and rather unkempt. 

“Where is my son?”

“You…your son? Who?”

“Sirius. My son. I must speak with him.”

“S-Sirius. Well, he’s here, in bed of course. It’s the middle of the night.”

“I have to speak with him!”

“Well, cant-cant it wait till the morning? Or couldn’t you send a letter or something? It’s far too late to go around knocking on peoples doors.”

“You can’t keep him from me! You don’t have that right! I demand to see him!”

“No. Sir. You do not have the right to come to my home at this ungodly hour and demand anything. You can come back at a reasonable hour. Goodnight.”

Fleamont tried to close the door but it flew open as Orion Black burst inside and set off for the staircase.

“N-n-now see here! You cant just…”

“Sirius!”

“This is my home! You cant barge in uninvited!”

“Sirius!”

Orion took the steps two at a time as he purposefully ascended to the second floor of the building. Euphemia emerged into the hall in a state of worry having been disturbed by the noise

“Fleamont?! What’s going on?!”

“Call the Aurors, Euphemia. Quick!”

“What’s happening?”

“Quickly Mia! The boys are in danger.”

Fleamont did not spare a second glance back as his wife as he set off in pursuit of the intruder. He had heard horror stories about Orion Black from Sirius and was in no doubt that he could be cruel and violent – the proof of that had been the boy was beaten black and blue when he arrived having run away from his family home – and now, spurred by the worry that Orion had come will ill-intent to harm a child he had come to think of as a second son, he felt the age lift from his bones as he soared up the staircase.

“Sirius!”

Orion stood on the upstairs landing calling out for his son. The surge of adrenaline that had led him to force his entry and rush the stairs seemed to be fading and he was now leaning heavily upon his cane. 

Fleamont emerged onto the landing a few seconds later and pointed his wand at the intruder, fully prepared to let curses fly within seconds. Orion turned to face him and his hand strayed towards his own wand.

“Dad?”

James emerged from his bedroom into the hall with Sirius on his heels, drawing attention to them.

“What’s going on?”

Everything happened in a moment.

Orion dropped his cane and crossed the hall in three steps, moving purposefully towards his son. Fearing the elder Black was about to become violent Fleamont raised his wand with a curse upon his lips. James, realizing who the intruder was, moved to block his path but was pushed aside while Sirius, surprised by the sudden appearance of his father, took a couple of steps back towards the safety of James’s bedroom.

The universe seemed to hold it’s breath as that one moment seemed to stretch for an eternity.

But then something unexpected happened.

“I’m sorry. Sirius. I’m so, so sorry.”

Orion reached out and drew his son into a crushing embrace. He drew a shuddering breath and dropped his head to rest on the younger man’s temple, before falling to his knees in before him, weeping openly.

“Forgive me. Please forgive me.”

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	2. Chapter 2

“It was all a misunderstanding. I appreciate you coming out so quickly and I’m sorry to have wasted your time.”

The door closed and Fleamont waited for the telltale crack of apparition before he let out a deep sigh and rested his head against the door. Now that the Aurors had been sent on their way he could turn his attention to the problem at hand.

The problem currently sitting in his kitchen sullenly drinking his tea.

Orion Black hadn’t said a word since begging for his son’s forgiveness. Euphemia had rushed up to them after calling the Aurors and, kind heart that she was, took pity on the elder Black. She ushered him down the stairs and into the kitchen then sat him at the table and plied him with cup after cup of hot sweet tea while she spoke quietly to him, trying to calm him down.

James, Sirius and Flemont himself had followed after her in stunned silence, too shocked and confused by the events of the night to do anything other than allow her to take control.

The Aurors arrived ready to deal with a hostile invasion only to find them all sat quite calmly around the kitchen and were confused to say the least, and they were not amused to find they had been called out needlessly.

Fleamont returned to the room to find the scene unchanged and gave another quiet sigh.

He had never really known much about Orion Black. The man was over twenty-years his junior and, even for a Black, was very reclusive and tended to shun society. As far as Fleamont knew he had lived off of the family’s wealth, had never sought any kind of employment and tended to keep out of politics, whatever his views may be. In fact, all of his knowledge about the man had come through knowing his son, and Sirius had painted a very dark picture of him, one which was not quite ringing true.

At any rate something must have happened to the man to cause this night’s commotion and, curious though he was to know what, Fleamont wasn’t going to press the matter while Euphemia was flittering around him like a mother hen.

“Thank you, but that’s enough, I’m fine now.”

Orion waved off the offer of another tea and offered a wan smile in the woman’s direction before gazing back down at his cup. He was trying to avoid looking at his son.

For Harry it had been over ten years since he’d last seen Sirius alive, and that final image of the man falling through the veil had never left him. Some nights it still plagued him and wracked him with guilt. He had long since come to terms with his godfather’s death and knew that there was nothing he could do to change that but here he was, face to face with the living Sirius – albeit a younger, healthier one that he had ever known – and that lingering guilt he had never shaken returned with a vengeance.

But more than that he knew now the kind of childhood that Sirius Black had endured, the kind of father Orion had been. He knew the favouritism, the abuse and even the beatings, he knew them firsthand as if he had done them himself, and he was ashamed of the man Orion Black had been.

The part of his mind that was Orion would never have spared this a second thought before, would have buried any concerns or doubts about the correctness of his actions deep and disregarded them, but being part Harry Potter gave him a different point of view and let him see things anew. Now he remembered things he’d long since forgotten, hopes and ideas that he’d abandoned with time, and, if asked, he could not say that he was proud of the father he had been. 

“I…I needed to tell you.”

Orion drank the last of his tea then carefully placed the cup upon the table and looked at his son.

God! Sirius was so young!

“I’ve done so many things wrong.”

Sirius scoffed.

“I never intended…”

“To do what? To insult me? Insult my friends? Try to brainwash me? Beat me, abuse me, disown me? What?!”

“…everything. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t good enough!”

“…I know…”

“Why did you do it then? What? Cause I wasn’t pure-blood enough for you?”

“…no, no, that wasn’t it, not really.”

“Then why?!”

“…you…reminded me of myself, of the boy I used to be and the man I once hoped to become.”

“Bullshit!”

“Sirius!” Euphemia turned on him in a heartbeat. “I will not have that language in this house!”

Sirius visibly winced at the rebuke and shrank back into his seat.

“Sorry mum.”

The familiarity with which Sirius used the word caused Orion to grimace. That his eldest son would consider someone outside the family a more worthy mother than the woman who gave birth to him was…hard to hear, but easy to accept. It hurt more to know that Sirius considered Fleamont Potter a more worthy father than he, and to know he was right.

Orion shook his head in disgust at himself and lowered his gaze towards his empty cup. He fiddled with it for a moment and felt the room stir in an uneasy unsettled silence before he raised his head and caught his sons’ eye.

“It…was never about you, Sirius. You did nothing wrong. I, I was a coward, and a fool, and I hurt you in ways I can never repair. I don’t know if you’ll ever forgive me, I don’t know if I will ever deserve it.”

“So what is this then? You think you can make yourself feel better if you say sorry? That I’ll come back just because you feel bad about it now?”

“No. No, it’s not that. I’ve got sidetracked. I didn’t come here for this.”

“Then why did you come here?”

“I…”

Orion looked away, back towards the empty cup. He was playing for time, he knew that. Sirius had a right to know what had happened, there was no point in him being here otherwise, but even with Harry’s influence it was difficult for Orion to expose a weakness in himself or his family, and it was a battle to work up the courage to do it.

Sirius was angry and confused.

His father had never really cared all that much before about what Sirius thought or did unless it embarrassed the family, and the most interaction he’d ever had with his father had been when he was being punished for some indiscretion. He had never played with his father, laughed with him, shared any kind of affection with him; theirs had been an adversarial relationship for many years and full of resentment.

Now his father had turned up out of the blue in the middle of the night to invade the house of the Potters and make a big scene and Sirius didn’t know what to think of it. 

“You know what? Screw this!”

Sirius abruptly stood up, knocking over the chair as he did so.

“I don’t believe any of this! It’s probably just some trick so you can hand me over to Voldemort anyway. I’m not going to waste my time.”

He turned away and began to march angrily out of the room.

“Your mother tried to kill me.”

Sirius froze half-way to the door.

“What?”

“You had a right to know, to hear it from me before you heard it from anyone else.”

Orion sat back and straightened up in the chair. At last he had come to the point and there was no going back now. He didn’t care what the Potters thought now; he only cared about his son. 

He watched as Sirius moved back to the table, picked the chair back up and sat down again, the younger Black’s eyes never leaving his father and a look of cautious shock on his face.

“She’d been poisoning me, a couple of months if I’m correct. She…wanted me out of the way. I was stopping her from doing what she wanted and…she felt…I had to go. In her mind I’m sure it wasn’t anything personal, but she still did it, and I couldn’t overlook it.”

Sirius shook his head in disbelief.

“This…this is just some trick isn’t it? It’s a lie right? She would never”

Orion caught his son’s gaze and held it. 

“I have disowned her.”

“I…I just…no! I don’t believe it!”

“You had to hear it from me. There will be rumours and gossip I’m sure, stories about us that wont be true, some will but most wont, and you had to know the truth. That is why I came here. You needed to know”

If Sirius looked shell-shocked that because he kind of was. While he had no end of issues with his mother, and he knew that Orion and Wulburga often fought over many things, he couldn’t even begin to imagine that one of them would try to kill the other. In his mind they were the perfect pureblood couple. Not nice or kind because, in his experience, that was against typical pureblood nature but devoted to each other in their own way, protective, even possessive, of each other. The idea that one was capable of potentially killing the other was…unthinkable.

Orion waited for a response from his son but as the minutes passed by he realized there would not be one. He sighed and stood up from the table then gently placed the chair back in place. He smoothed down his robes and took up his cane. He turned to address Flemont and Euphemia.

“Things got…a bit out of hand, and I’m sorry for making such a scene and disturbing you so late but I was…not quite myself. You have been more than gracious for putting up with me tonight and I thank you for it, but I’ve intruded on you home enough. It’s time I was on my way”

The Potters barely acknowledged the elder Black. They too were somewhat overwhelmed.

Orion began to leave but stopped beside his son.

“I…have been a terrible father to you Sirius, and you may never forgive me for it, but I promise you, I will be a better man and, someday, perhaps even one you will be proud to call your father.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\  
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Andromeda Tonks could only gape in shock at the scene before her.

It was a quiet Saturday morning. She was cleaning the kitchen as her husband Ted relaxed in the next room listening to the WWN, their daughter having a mid-morning nap upstairs, when there came a knock at the door. Ted called through that he’d answer it and when Andromeda curiously followed him she could never have guessed what she would see.

Standing on the doorstep to her home was her Uncle Orion. Dress in his typical fine clothing with the Black Family ring clearly visible as he leaned his hand on the cane in front of him.

She had not see her Uncle in almost four years, not since she admitted to marrying Ted, a Muggleborn, and being disowned for it. She thought she’d never see any part of her family again in her lifetime, except perhaps Sirius.

“U-Uncle Orion? What-what are you doing here?”

Orion regarded her coolly and before turning his gaze towards Ted. 

“I have come to meet the man for whom you threw away your family.”

“Threw away? I never – you threw me out!”

“Now, now”

Ted stepped in and placed a calming hand on his wife’s shoulder.

“Let’s not do this out in the street. Come in Mr Black, I’m sure we’ll be pleased to have you. The living rooms the first door on the right. Make yourself at home.”

Orion gave a curt nod to Ted and eased by them making for the door. Andromeda turned to her husband wand hissed at him.

“What are you doing? Inviting him in?”

“Come on Dromeda. You Uncle’s come to see you for the first time ever. We cant just turn him away.”

“You know my family think you’re dirt, and I’m lower than that for marrying you. This is just going to end badly”

“But what if it doesn’t? What if he’s here to make amends?”

“It’s not possible Ted. You don’t know my family like I do. No one carries a grudge like a Black.”

“Dromeda, love, you left your family for me, and I know it hurt you badly to lose them and I have never forgotten it. I would do anything short of losing you or Dora if you to get even a part of that back.”

“…you don’t have to do that for me. You and Nymphadora are all the family I could ever need”

“I know, I know, but I want you to have more, you deserve more.”

“…alright, we’ll see what he wants, but expect the worst because it’s bound to happen.”

“There’s the optimist I married!”

Andromeda and Ted shared a kiss before moving towards the living room.

Orion sat imperiously upon the room’s only armchair, perched on the edge of the seat with his back straight and his hand resting on his cane. He surveyed the room in a distracted fashion as his two hosts entered and took a seat opposite him.

Silence reigned.

Orion regarded the young man opposite. The young man was fair haired, light brown to the point of almost being blonde, with clear blue eyes. Taller than Andromeda but not by much and stockier though by no means overweight, and quite good looking in a more robust and rounded way than the aristocratic sharp features traditional to the Black family, which stood him in contrast to his wife.

“Tea!”

Andromeda nervously broke the silence. She cleared her throat. Orion turned his eyes upon her, a blank look on his face.

“Sh-should I get us some tea?”

“Not right now. Thank you. Tell me…”

Orion casually turned his gaze back towards Ted. The younger man offered a tentative smile but otherwise looked at ease.

“…what is it that you do?”

“I work for St Mungo’s sir.”

“In what capacity?”

“I’m a healer. Well, an apprentice. I mostly work on the kid’s ward.”

“And it’s pays well?”

“I cant complain. It’s enough to live off. And I enjoy the work.”

“How so?”

“I like helping people, always have. It’s a curse.”

“Indeed.”

“He’s very good at it Uncle. He was top of his class in Charms at Hogwarts and one of the best in Potions, and he’s almost completed his healer training after two years even though it normally takes three or four.”

“I’m sure he can speak for himself Andromeda.”

“Yes Uncle.”

Andromeda shrank back beside her husband and he gave her knee a comforting squeeze and smiled supportively at her.

“I don’t need you to sell me to anyone Dromeda. It doesn’t really matter what anyone else thinks of me. I know you love me and that’s all that matters”

She took his hand and smiled back at him.

“And you are happy with each other, are you not?”

Orion’s voice startled them. They had almost forgotten he was in the room. Ted looked to Orion then back to his wife then pulled her close to place a kiss on her brow.

“We are.”

He answered simply.

Orion looked to Andromeda.

“And you? You share his feelings?”

“I do.”

She answered without hesitation, almost daring him to comment.

Orion leaned back in the chair and sighed. 

This was Harry’s idea, the part of his brain that was still Harry. Orion didn’t see the point, didn’t really care what his niece was doing or what she and her Muggleborn husband felt, but Harry believed they were important and worthy of the effort so here they were. 

Heh! Wulburga would have a fit if she knew, to say nothing of his father. That was an amusing thought

He reached into the pockets of his robe and pulled out a small bag. He threw it haphazardly on the table.

“What’s that?”

“A gift.”

Orion drew his wand and enlarged the bag. Ted shared a look with Andromeda before reaching out and opening it. The bag was full of Galleons, a small fortune, enough to so that neither Andromeda nor Ted would have to work for, possibly, years.

“It is customary in our family for a bride to receive a dowry on the day of her wedding and your father has been remiss in giving you yours. This is to remedy that.”

“We-we cant accept this! It’s too much!”

“You can and you will.”

“But…”

“Spend it, save it up, give it to charity for all I care, whether you keep it or not is not important, it’s the giving of it that matters.”

Ted looked between Orion and Andromeda in confusion.

“I don’t understand. Why doesn’t it matter if we keep it? Why’s the giving more important.”

“Because it shows that I officially recognize you as part of my family, as heirs of my house, you and whatever children you might have. Whatever you choose to do with the money is unimportant, it’s the gesture that matters”

Andromeda studied her uncle with a calculating look in her eye. This was completely out of character for him. Not only was he recognizing her, a “blood traitor”, as part of his family but he was also recognizing her Muggleborn husband and their half-blood daughter and, more than that, he was going against his own father.

She had been disowned on the orders of Arcturus himself, and Orion had never been one to oppose the Black Patriarch. In fact, in Andromeda’s experience, he tended to support whatever his father said without question.

“What is this really? Why did you come here today?”

Orion once more turned his cool gaze towards his niece and hesitated before answering.

“Thing have…happened, changed, which have forced me to reassess my world view. You don’t need to know the details. Needless to say, there are things I have done, and things I didn’t do, that I regret, and I’m trying to fix that while I still can. How I dealt with you and your…life choices is one of those things.”

“So this is you trying to make correct past mistakes?”

Orion tilted his head in acknowledgement.

“And your father, he supports this?”

“He doesn’t know, yet anyway. I’m sure he’ll find out soon enough - in fact I’m counting on it.”

“Counting on it? You’re not making us pawns in some family power play are you? Because if that’s what this is then I want no part of it!”

“Of course not. Your family has no real consequence to the wider Black family and none of them will particularly care what you do or what I do in relation to you. No, my…father and I, we have issues which I have long since avoided addressing, and it’s about time they were resolved, at the very least my recent actions should get his attention.”

“…you’re provoking him into a confrontation. Why? I thought you and Arcturus agreed on everything.”

“There are many thing about our family you still don’t understand, and, in truth, I hope you never will.”

Orion shook his head.

“We are a black family in more than just name. We bury our quarrels deep and dwell on our grudges until they consume us. We value status above all else and look down on weaknesses of any kind, yes, even love. Ours is not a healthy way of life, and I seek to change that, as only I can.”

He smiled at his niece – the first time since arriving that the calm, blank look had passed from his face – a wistful, somewhat regretful smile.

“I’m…glad you married for love, and I’m proud of you, for going against the family as you did. I…envy you, the courage that you had to do that, and I would truly be honoured if you would accept my offer and join my family again.”

“….I-I don’t know what to say, I-I don’t know, I…” 

Andromeda was stunned. On a day of surprises this was the biggest surprise of all. Her stoic Uncle, a prime example of a perfect Black Family heir, openly praising her for trampling over the values of the family, it was unbelievable! She just didn’t know how to react.

“Of course we’ll accept!”

Ted placed a supportive arm around his wife’s shoulders and smiled gently at her before turning back to the elder man and holding out the bag of Galleons.

“We’d love to, but this, this is still too much. We’re not making this decision because of the money. You can’t buy us into your family so you can take it back. We’ll accept the offer, and the gesture, but we don’t want the money”

“Then it’s settled.”

Orion rose to his feet and crossed the room in a couple of steps. He grasped Ted’s hand and dragged him to his feet. Clapping a hand on his shoulder he shook the younger mans hand.

“Any man who could allow himself to be bought wouldn’t be worthy of my niece to begin with. Welcome to the family!”

He took the bag of gold off of the younger man and turned to his niece. He smiled at her again before shocking her once more by pulling her into a tight embrace.

“It’s good to have you back.”

Andromeda closed her eyes and allowed herself to melt into her Uncles arms. 

She had dreamed of acceptance from her family, for herself and her husband and daughter – fleeting dreams that she knew in her heart would never become reality – and even if this was only her Uncle, even if this was only temporary, even if this all turned out to be some wonderful fantasy, she was happy at last to have some part of what she’s lost back.

“Thank you”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\  
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

~Daily Prophet~

…The Wizengamot today sat in stunned silence as a formal letter from Orion Black, heir to one of Britain’s oldest and most influential pureblood families, was read out to the assembled members of the chamber.

The reclusive Mr Black, 47, had long been believed to be sympathetic to the cause of the Dark Lord as it had been assumed that he shared similar views to those of his now retired father Arcturus who, many of our readers may recall, campaigned for segregation of Purebloods and Muggleborns within Wizarding society in the 1950s.

However in his formal letter Mr Black addressed the issue of Blood Politics and in doing so revealed himself to be more moderate than any would have expected of the heir to the Black Family.

“We have become too concerned in our society about the purity of blood;” the letter read “and there are those amongst us who would see Muggleborns removed from our society altogether, but I say to them that this is misguided. There is a place for them within Wizarding world, whether it is as clerks, shop-keepers, ministry workers or teachers, and we Pureblooded wizards are too few to fulfil these roles ourselves.”

“I share the concerns of those who fear the growing influence of Muggleborns within our society, for they do not care about our traditions or the way of life that has worked for us for hundreds of years. Many consider us a backwards people and in ways morally inferior to the Muggle world, and in this they display their wilful ignorance of our society, the very society they wish to join, and attempt to force upon us their own ideals and change us to conform to their desires.”

“As long as this remains so then it is my belief that Muggleborns should not occupy positions of power, for they could bring about unforeseen damage to our way of life through their ignorance of it. In time, however, I believe they could serve our society well provided they respect those that came before them and did not try to force upon us their ideals without a care for our own.”

Turning to the matter of You Know Who, Mr Black was equally forthright and dismissed openly the idea of the Dark Lord being a champion of Pureblood philosophy.

“It has been suggested within Pureblood circles that this Dark Lord is a champion of our way of life, and that he will defend our ideals against any change, but this too is misguided. He seeks only to exploit our divisions and to pray upon the fears of our society to his own ends, and should he achieve his goal and rise to control our society then it would not only be Muggleborns who suffer, but Purebloods too would be subservient to his ambitions, and we must not fool ourselves into thinking he would consider any of us indispensable.”

But the most shocking part was to yet to come, for in his closing statement Mr Black was unequivocal about the consequences that faced a member of his family who would follow You Know Who.

“Therefore I have determined that it is the official position of my family that we will not back the Dark Lord and his cause. We will not offer support for him openly or secretly, and any member of the Black Family who chooses to follow him or aid him in anyway will be acting without the consent of the family and will be disowned and disinherited.”

The Daily Prophet approached Arcturus Black, 75, current head of the family for a reaction but received no official response. Sources close to the family have informed us that the Black Patriarch does not share his son’s views and is furious that this letter was sent without his approval...  
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\  
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The coming of Arcturus was quick and wrathful.

The Black Patriarch burst out of the fireplace like a demon, the hot coals of the fire still smouldering upon his robes as he emerged from the flames, a look of fury upon his face, his eyes seeming to burn brighter than the fire itself, if that were possible.

Regulus took one look at his Grandfather and regretted more than ever the absence of his brother and his faithful House Elf.

“Where is he?!”

“Er, um,”

“Don’t stutter boy! You’re a Black. Black’s don’t stutter! Speak up! Where is your father?!”

“The, the dining room”

And just as quickly as he had come Arcturus was gone, storming out of the room in search of his son, and if there was one thing Regulus knew for certain it was that he wanted no part of the fight that was brewing.

Orion sat at the table with the Daily Prophet laid out in front of him as Arcturus burst into the room.

“What have you been playing at boy?!”

“Hello father. How are you? I’m fine, thanks for asking. What brings you here today?”

“Don’t cheek me! You know exactly why I’m here. What the devil are you thinking?!”

“Oh? You mean this?”

Orion held up the newspaper and half-heartedly waved it towards his father before shrugging his shoulders and tossing it back on the table.

“Well, I thought it was about time I set things straight, you see. Can’t have family members acting on their own and tying us up with undesirables. Wouldn’t reflect well.”

“Even if that were true you don’t go to the press! That’s not how we handle things.”

“Is it not?”

“You know very well it isn’t! Any problems we have in the family get dealt with in the family. Going public will damage our name and reputation and make us a laughing stock!”

“Ha! Damage our name? Our reputation? You’ve been living in isolation too long Father, our reputation was ruined years ago.”

“Ludicrous! The Black name is one of the most revered in the wizarding world.”

“It was, and maybe it still is in some pureblood circles, but times have changes and we’ve all been too insular to see it. Now we are hated and scorned by those around us, considered outdated, a relic of a past era that refused to adapt and seeks to hold back the world for our own advantage, and worse, a family that will turn on it’s own for the slightest infringement. Change has been a long time coming.”

“Change?! Change?! You talk of abandoning our traditions, our principles! For what? To appeal to our inferiors? To be liked by those beneath us? Those not worthy of us? Such change is pointless! Worthless! It will ruin us!”

“No Father. What will ruin us is staying the same, remaining in the dark and punishing ourselves. I cannot sit by anymore and do nothing when I know we are walking the wrong path!”

“And the right path is this?!”

The elder Black gestured in anger and disgust at the paper on the table.

“I can’t accept that, that, garbage! That goes against everything we’ve ever stood for as a family, everything we are and everything we’ve ever represented! I could perhaps have overlooked this if it had been just the letter but you went behind my back to recognize a mudblood and a blood-traitor and their mongrel spawn as part of our family! That’s gone too far!”

“I only regret that it took me so long to do it.”

The look on Arcturus face was murderous, and if looks could kill no doubt he would be short a son.

“You’ve always been a disappointment, ever since you were a boy. I had hoped I’d break you of this rebellious phase, but I see that I was wrong. You’re not worthy of being my son.”

“Then disown me.”

“…what?”

Orion advanced on his father and stood within an armed length of him. He looked into the older man’s stunned face unflinchingly and held his gaze.

“Disown me.”

“I…I…you, how dare…”

“You can’t, can you?”

“Don’t-don’t tempt me…”

Orion laughed.

“You’re out of options old man. I’m the only Black of my generation to have fathered a son – two in fact! Lucretia married a Prewett, Cygnus could only manage daughters and Alphard’s a confirmed bachelor. If you disown me you disown my sons and end the Black line and your heirs become Malfoys or Lestranges. So do it if you dare.”

Arcutus could only glare in answer.

Orion was right. There were no male heirs to the Black line other than his son. If he were to disown his own disappointment of an heir he would be disowning the whole line and that would be the end of the Black Family. He would have no one to inherit his estate and all the wealth of the Black Family would be passed on to other families.

However much Arcturus hated what his son was doing, however much he thought it was an insult to everything he and the family stood for, he couldn’t disown him. He couldn’t, wouldn’t be remembered as the Black who ended the linage.

“We are done here”

Orion turned his back on his father.

“This visit has been a pleasure as always Father. Let’s not be in a hurry to do it again.”

“You’ll regret this! Mark my words boy! You’ll regret this!”

**Author's Note:**

> I have often thought the time-travel and body-sharing is kind of superfluous to the story in general and I could have just written and AU about Orion Black without having him share a body with Harry Potter, but I kept with it. I might return to this one day but for now this is the extent of this story, dont expect any updates.


End file.
